


Take My Songs

by jamesilver



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dancing and Singing, Declarations Of Love, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kaer Morhen, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Singing, Slow Burn, but i get it bro, but like listen im fully aware that 10k is not a slowburn, eskel is entitled to financial compensation for dealing w their bullshit, i mean i don't think its super heavy angst??, i...dont know what else to tag, im not claiming 10k can be an appropriate slowburn to truly earn the title, it just has those same vibes, like between the two of them not for either indiviudl, listen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24396358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesilver/pseuds/jamesilver
Summary: "I was wondering," Jaskier started. "Has anyone ever commented on your whole 'brooding in the corner' thing? Cause I think it's a little over the top. I mean, you were practically the only person here who wasn't enjoying that last set and I must know why, stranger."Oh, yes, Jaskier could tell Geralt was clearly amused. "Sit down, bard.""Admit it, Geralt. You missed me."__Or, Geralt keeps denying that he's in love with a certain bard who confesses his feelings and complicates the situation for both of them.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 21
Kudos: 388





	Take My Songs

**Author's Note:**

> I have finally decided to upgrade my involvement in this fandom from just reading a bunch of fics of Jask getting railed by Witchers to writing it!! (there is no smut in this tho sorry fam but stay tuned I've got a few in the works including a, uh, modern!sugardaddy!Geralt Au? anyone?)
> 
> Canon? What is canon? 
> 
> Ok, yall in all honesty, I don't even really have that many problems w this canon but I've just become so incredibly jaded w all canon works that when I get into a fandom I pretty much am just like, hey, hi, I'm gonna take these characters or this world or this small section of plot and ignore everything else. bc that's the true nature of transformative works, babey, I don't care WHAT happened in canon 
> 
> Anyway, in this fic, we start with, uhh, Jask and Geralt meet and then part ways after a little while and that's where we pick up. This has nothing to with "a mountain"? What's that?

Maybe if he kept telling himself that everything was fine, it would be true. Geralt was just "like that" and he would always be like that. It wasn't Jaskier's fault and it wasn't something that he should—

Jaskier took a deep breath. Geralt's inability to admit he had emotions was not Jaskier's responsibility. He did not have to make the Witcher confront what he felt. It was not Jaskier's job. They were grown men, for fucks sake. 

So they had met that fateful day in Posada and Jaskier had followed Geralt around for a little while, but he eventually got the message: get lost, bard. And it wasn't like Geralt had ever done anything to make Jaskier think that wasn't his true feelings. But Jaskier had just assumed he didn't want anyone close and didn't want anyone to come near him and that was fine. Jaskier thought he would wear him down eventually. But that clearly wasn't the case so after months of traveling together, Jaskier had decided it was enough and when Geralt mentioned his next contract, Jaskier mentioned how good the coin was in the local tavern for his songs. 

And that had been that. Geralt had left without even a "hm." 

Now, Jaskier sat two towns away, six months later, trying to compose and coming up utterly blank. 

And, of course, don't get him wrong. He wasn't able to write anything because nothing compared to the great adventures of Geralt the White Wolf and his mighty—well, you get the idea. That was the sole reason why Jaskier couldn't compose. Yes, everything was just too boring. That was it. Of course that was it, that was all. 

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that everytime Jaskier sat down to compose he could come up with nothing but pitifully lovesick lyrics on the Witcher's  _ hair _ of all things. Or his pecs. Fuck, Jaskier loved Geralt's pecs. Among...other things. 

Okay, so after traveling together on the road for multiple months, it was a little impossible to not see your traveling companion naked. And, for sure, nothing had happened between them past that, of course not. Geralt likely preferred less...well, less masculine company, if Jaskier could ever call himself masculine (which, was a fact that he was rather proud of, he didn't mind people thinking him androgynous). But Geralt, well that was a whole ass man right there and Jaskier doubted that even if Geralt would go for the company of another man, that it would ever be  _ Jaskier _ that would fit into that role. 

He had made it abundantly clear in his demeanor that he didn't exactly enjoy Jaskier's company. 

Which left Jaskier, alone, and utterly songless.

And so the months passed. 

__________

_ "and she said to me— _ “ Jaskier stopped in the middle of his lyric, his fingers stuttering across his lute. His audience shifted, most of them just looking confused. 

Quickly recovering, Jaskier plastered a smile on his face and began moving about the tavern, forcing his eyes away from the man who had just walked in the door. 

Er, not a man. The  _ Witcher _ that had just walked in the door. 

He wasn't sure what, exactly, he was expecting, but hope leaped in his heart when Geralt didn't turn and leave as soon as he saw Jaskier. 

Still singing and moving about the room, Jaskier rolled his eyes to himself. If he was going to leave walking in the room and seeing Jaskier, he never would have entered in the first place because he could probably hear Jaskier from miles away with that Witcher hearing. Which just got Jaskier's thoughts back on the track of Witcher abilities and he was such a bad friend—such a  _ bad friend _ to Geralt if he could ever in his life be able to be called that—because his mind went immediately sexual. 

His smile stretched even wider as he sang a particularly pleasant lyric, the audience starting to catch on to the song he was singing and joining in themselves. It was a matter of seconds more—lines more—and Jaskier had the entire tavern (Geralt excluded, naturally) singing along, sloshing the drinks in their hands and jostling shoulders with those next to them. Jaskier himself took a stand on top of one of the tables, singing out above everyone else. 

And so what if he couldn't help himself if he slid a glance Geralt's way. 

What he saw almost made him stop playing again. Only once in his entire time traveling with Geralt had he seen it:

Geralt's version of a smile. 

Just the corner of his mouth barely tipped up at the edge. And he was looking right at Jaskier so in the middle of his lyric, he found himself wondering if that smile was for...him?

But how could it possibly?

Immediately, Jaskier decided this was his last song of the night. Usually, when he got a crowd this excited he would play for another hour at the minimum, try and continue the flow of coin as much as he could. But he had to stop after this song. He had to cross the room and speak to Geralt, even if it was just to get brushed off by him. 

Fuck.

Jaskier finished the last chord and kept his smile on his face despite how utterly fake it had just become. Because he had just realized he was completely and utterly in love with Geralt. 

The crowd cheered as Jaskier climbed down from the table. 

"Thank you, thank you," Jaskier said. "You've been a wonderful audience, but I must, unfortunately, take my leave of you tonight." He heard some sounds of disappointment, but it didn't matter. Jaskier was just counting to ten over and over in his head, trying to keep his breathing calm until he could sit down across from Geralt. 

Which it was going to be nearly impossible to keep his heartbeat steady because of his recent, uh, realization. He had thought he just wanted to fuck Geralt! He had thought his attraction to Geralt solely revolved around the fact that he had suspected for months that Geralt had a monster cock (a fact that he had not been bereft of confirming before they parted ways). 

_ 1, 2, 3 _

He was going to be fine, just fine. 

_ 9, 10, 1, 2 _

Smiling and still laughing, Jaskier made his way casually but pointedly to the table—in the corner, of course—that Geralt was sitting at. 

He smirked when he reached Geralt and leaned against a post, thinking how similar it was to that first night in Posada. Geralt was staring directly at him with something akin to amusement in his eyes so Jaskier cleared his throat. 

"I was wondering," Jaskier started. "Has anyone ever commented on your whole 'brooding in the corner' thing? Cause I think it's a little over the top. I mean, you were practically the only person here who wasn't enjoying that last set and I  _ must _ know why, stranger." 

Oh, yes, Jaskier could tell Geralt was clearly amused. "Sit down, bard," he said and Jaskier had forgotten that his memory could never do justice to hearing Geralt's voice. Sure, he could recreate the sound of it in his head, but he could never recreate the shiver that would run down his spine whenever Geralt would just...speak. 

He sat, laughing. "Admit it, Geralt. You missed me." Jaskier was aware he was smiling too brightly, too widely. He didn't care. 

Geralt just gave a small "Hm" in response. 

Which was not a denial. 

Jaskier swore he had a heart palpitation. Followed by another one a second later based far more in fear when he realized that Geralt likely sensed the first one. Which was going to just create a cycle if he wasn't careful, so he counted to ten again. 

"So," Jaskier leaned back in his seat. "What have you been up to, Witcher? I haven't heard anything about your travels."

"Why would you? You're the only one who talks about them." 

Jaskier laughed. And he realized he kept laughing. But he couldn't help it; he was giddy that he was back in Geralt's presence. Fuck, this was bad. "Of course. Because you sure as hell don't talk about them because you barely talk about anything. But I suppose you don't have much practice, wandering around on your own, pretending that being lonely is a character trait. Do I annoy you, Geralt?" 

He didn't know where the question came from. Why did he say that? He might as well just get up and walk away now, call it a night. He already knew the answer; it was why he left. 

But he was surprised to receive that small smile again. "Of course you do, Jaskier." 

Changing his position again because Jaskier was actually desperately trying to cover up nervous fidgeting, he leaned forward on his elbows. 

"Why are you in such a good mood, hm? Is it because you ran into an old friend, is that it?" 

He was pushing it. What was he doing? Geralt was being the nicest he had ever been. Why was he  _ pushing it _ ?

"I've had a particularly good few months," was all Geralt said. Stoic as ever. As forthcoming with details as ever. 

"Let me guess," Jaskier smiled. "It was because you finally got rid of some annoying bard that kept following you around incessantly." It was a joke, but it also wasn't. He wasn't sure if he was hoping Geralt would recognize it as such or not. 

But the small smile had vanished from Geralt's face. "It has been quieter," he admitted. For the first time in their conversation, Geralt looked away from him. "But it was less coin. I'll give you that." 

"Oh, I will take it, Geralt. In fact, for you, my darling Witcher, I will stand up right now and play 'Toss a Coin' just for you and—“ Jaskier had been starting to get up, lute in hand, and Geralt's hand shot out to grab onto the neck of the lute, inches from Jaskier's hand. 

"Don't you dare," Geralt said, but Jaskier could tell the amusement was back. 

Laughing—again—Jaskier sat back down. "I was just joking, Witcher, calm down. It's a single song. You've dealt with my singing enough, surely one simple song doesn't drive you crazy?" 

Geralt just stared at him. 

Jaskier cocked his head. "It's because it's catchy, isn't it? You find yourself humming it just like everyone else, is that it? Well, Geralt, I must admit, I find it cute that you enjoy your own theme song so well." 

"Do you ever stop talking?" Geralt asked him. 

"Oh, no, Geralt, you traveled with me for months. Surely you know this by now." 

Sighing, Geralt shifted in his seat, sitting back. 

"How long are you in town?" Jaskier asked. "What brought you here?" 

"Just passing through," Geralt said. "I'm not planning on staying for long." 

Jaskier tried to not let his heart sink. It had no right to. "Headed to a contract?"

Geralt just nodded. And Jaskier found himself coming to a standstill with the conversation. What was he supposed to say from here? Oh, okay, great talking Geralt, have a nice life. Just walk away? No, Jaskier would find any excuse to stay here, to stay talking. Especially since Geralt was in an exceptionally good mood, apparently. 

He just had to find something to say. 

_ Anything, Julian, would be wonderful _ , he thought to himself. Seriously, if he could just think of something else to keep Geralt occupied...

"I think your attention is wanted by an admirer," Geralt said, nodding at something behind Jaskier. 

He half turned and saw a glittering smile trying to pull him in. But he turned back to Geralt, who raised an eyebrow in return. 

Jaskier shrugged. "What can I say? I'm catching up with an old friend. And it's rare that you tolerate my presence so I figured I should keep this moment going for as long as possible." 

"I don't just tolerate your presence." 

"Oh?" Jaskier moved closer to the table. "Are you trying to say that you would be willing to admit you even...like me?" 

Geralt gave him a flat look, but Jaskier just laughed and pressed on. 

"Why, Geralt, I don't hardly believe it. You? Admitting you like me?"

Still having that strangely amused look that Jaskier couldn't figure out, Geralt just said, "You're pushing it, Jaskier." 

"Oh, always, my darling Witcher. But, you know what would shut me up?" 

"A gag?" 

Geralt was clearly joking, but Jaskier could feel a blush start to rise and...well, let's just say that his face wasn't the only place that blood had immediately started rushing. 

"Ha  _ ha _ , Geralt." He leaned back in his seat, regarding the man across from him for a moment. Geralt, of course, looked no different than when Jaskier had seen him last. And Jaskier wanted him no less. "Okay, really. Tell me, what has you in such a good mood?"

Without answering, Geralt just took a sip of his drink. 

"If you don't say anything, Geralt, I'm going to have to assume that my lovely singing lured you into town and into this particular tavern and that you're practically glowing with amusement because you missed me." 

Geralt still didn't answer and Jaskier felt his blush deepen. 

"Oh," he said, in an entirely different tone. "Well," he laughed, nervous. "Maybe I should talk for you more often."

Now it was no hidden fact that when Jaskier got nervous, he just continued to speak. Maybe he shouldn't have ended his set so soon, after all because he could have put off this nervousness, let it out in his wandering legs. 

But, no. Because he didn't want to waste a second with Geralt while he had him. 

"You know, it actually is a wonderful idea that I just keep imposing things onto you until you stop me. I mean, it would completely absolve you of having to confront any of your feelings and you would have...plausible deniability at a later date about anything that I said. This might work. Here, allow to demonstrate:"

Jaskier spread his hands to the side as if he were performing. 

"Jaskier, I have profusely missed your company on the road. You were a wonderful, albeit annoying, travel companion and I just don't want to admit that I don't like being alone as much as I try to pretend. Oh, and your songs are lovely, Jaskier, I just love them so much—“

Geralt held out a hand. "Let's not get carried away here, Jaskier." 

Pressing a hand to his chest, Jaskier faked offense. "Are you saying that you don't fawn over my singing? Why, Geralt, I would never have expected that from you, someone who always made it so clear that was why he kept me around."

Dropping it, Jaskier laughed a little, glancing around the room. "In all honesty, though, Geralt," he looked back. "Why did you keep me around?"

"You refused to leave."

He held Geralt's eyes now. "What if I refused to leave again?" He let the question hang between them for only a moment. "Would you punch me in the gut a mile outside of town again?" 

As the moments passed, Jaskier heard no sound from the rest of the tavern except the beats of his own heart, which he knew the man across from him could hear as well. He knew his pulse betrayed his nervousness, despite how calm of a demeanor he was desperately trying to keep. 

"No."

One word, that was all Geralt said. 

And, oh, how it was all Jaskier needed. 

__________

They had been traveling on the road together for many more months and yet it seemed like not three minutes had passed because here they were, again, with Jaskier playing a lute and a crowd in a tavern in some town he would likely never remember the name of. With Geralt sitting in the corner, watching him like a hawk. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say like a wolf. 

So Jaskier sang his set and collected them coin and then had a decision to make: 

Did he want to torture himself by trying to make conversation with the man he was utterly in love with or was he going to go flirt around a bit and get laid? 

He opted for the latter. He just didn't want to deal with Geralt's shit tonight and it truly was torture to try and talk to him sometimes because Jaskier could actually feel his heart breaking. And he didn't want to deal with it right now. 

Which is how Jaskier found himself out in the summer night, leaning against a wall with a group of strangers. 

They were talking about gods knows what and Jaskier wasn't really making himself a part of the conversation, just preoccupying himself with the man leaning against the wall next to him, giving him bedroom eyes. Which was exactly what Jaskier was looking for tonight. But then—

"Hey, bard." 

Jaskier turned in the direction of the voice, looking to three of the men in the group who were now all watching him. 

"Yes?" 

"Did you come in here tonight with that Witcher?" 

And Jaskier knew the tone with which he said it, the way that he spat the word. He had heard it many times; it wasn't a shock. And he knew where it led and he wasn't exactly glad of it.

Quickly, he glanced around him to note that now the entire group was watching him carefully, judging. A headcount told him he probably couldn't take all eight of them just him and the dagger in his boot. Best to run. 

But when, exactly, was Julian Alfred Pankratz one to run from a fight. 

"Do you have a problem with that?" He asked. "Because you didn't seem to have a problem with a Witcher in town when your sewers were littered with drowners. You're welcome for that, by the way. If you'd like to say your thanks personally, Witcher's just inside there if you'd care to give a few coin." 

Was he pushing it? Absolutely. And he probably shouldn't have said it, but he just couldn't bite his tongue when it came to Geralt. 

"Excuse me, bard?" 

Jaskier smiled and failed to stop the words before they left his mouth. "You're excused." He pushed off the wall. What little self-preservation instincts he had left were telling him to run and run and get the fuck out of there. 

A hand pressed against his chest pushed him back against the wall. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Yeah, you can't talk to us like that and get away." 

The man that was closest to him looked at Jaskier with a bit of concern and the bard wondered if appealing to him and his sympathy would be his out of this situation. 

"Serious, bard, are you under some sort of curse?"

Jaskier laughed loudly. Oh, that was just rich. And looking at their faces, they seriously believed he would have to be cursed to be friends with a Witcher, to travel with him. 

"You're all delusional!" Jaskier couldn't stop laughing. He was probably a little bit drunk, he realized, which just made the entire situation all the more dangerous for him. He should really get back inside, but it seemed a fleeting wish now. 

One of the men was about to say something else but Jaskier brought his knee up to the balls of the man holding him against the wall and then pulled his dagger from his boot. 

It's a tragedy, really, that the element of surprise never lasts long in fights. 

Jaskier felt a solid punch land on his jaw and it made his ear ring. His feet stuttered across the ground and he tried to bring his vision back around to fight, but before he could move, he was hit again in the stomach, all the wind knocked out of him, and he was on the ground. 

Not a great place to be when surrounded by eight angry men with capable boots who wanted to beat the shit out of you. 

"Is that really all you've got?" Jaskier asked and then closed his eyes as one of the boots reared back. 

And then all he heard was the sound of running. 

When Jaskier cracked his eyes open, there was a single hand reaching out in front of his face. 

Geralt pulled him to his feet and Jaskier sighed, bristling a little in annoyance. 

"I don't need your rescuing, Geralt." 

Without saying anything, Geralt brushed Jaskier's hair out of his eyes before moving to softly brush dirt off of his face, taking care of where a large bruise was blooming on his jaw. 

Then, Geralt drew back. "You're an idiot, Jaskier." 

"Oh, wow, did you hear that everybody?" Jaskier looked out at the empty alley around them. "Geralt of Rivia thinks I'm an idiot. How original." 

Geralt sighed. "Let's get you inside." He took Jaskier gently by the arm and started walking him back towards the tavern, but Jaskier wrenched his arm out of Geralt's grip using far more force than was necessary with how light Geralt was holding him. 

Okay, Jaskier was much drunker than he had thought and that punch hit him harder than he had initially assessed. He was feeling downright near unconsciousness. 

"Why?" He said. 

"Why what, Jaskier?" 

"Why did you come out here?" Jaskier crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Because you were about to get the shit beat out of you because you don't know when to leave well enough alone." 

Jaskier shrugged. "So? Why the fuck do you care?" 

Now, Geralt met his eyes and they were all fire. "Fine, Jaskier," was all he said before stalking off. 

Childlike, Jaskier stuck his tongue out at Geralt's retreating figure. "Fucking annoying piece of..." He mumbled, kicking at the ground. 

Soon, Geralt was out of sigh. And, wow, Jaskier really needed to sit down. To lie down. To sleep. 

__________

_ Oh _ ,  _ fuck _ , was the first thought Jaskier had when he woke up, still not having opened his eyes. 

Rubbing a hand across his face, he sat up and opened his eyes, looking at the room around him. 

At least he had somehow made it to a bed right? 

And, a glance down told him that he had made it to a bed without  _ going to bed _ if you know what he means. Which was good, probably, considering how drunk he was and considering he didn't remember how he had gotten to this bed it was decidedly a good thing that Jaskier's clothes had stayed on. 

What he did remember was Geralt walking away before Jaskier wound up with needing some serious healing time and then Jaskier had wandered back into the tavern and continued to drink. And judging by his headache, a lot. 

What he didn't remember (besides somehow getting to this bed) was Geralt ever coming back. 

Which, great, wonderful. Maybe he was gone for good. And wouldn't that be just fucking peachy. 

Stumbling out of bed, Jaskier found his things in the corner—another surprise—and gathered them together before heading down the stairs to try and settle whatever bill he had incurred. 

But when he did, he had been told everything was already paid for. 

Which was strange, considering when he looked in his things, he wasn't missing enough coin to have paid for a room. Enough to have gotten him drunk, sure. 

"Well," he asked the innkeeper. "Do you happen to know where the Witcher is?" 

The innkeeper nodded. "He left town about a half hour ago." 

Jaskier's heart sank. So Geralt was gone. 

But, then again... "A half hour, you say? In which direction?" 

And with that, Jaskier was headed out of town as well. 

He figured he was probably going to get turned away by Geralt, but he wanted to apologize for his behavior last night, so he kept walking. He knew Geralt well enough to figure where he probably would go, but Jaskier decided that if he didn't find him by sundown, he would return to the town and figure himself out from there. Winter was coming soon, after all, so he probably shouldn't be stuck alone in the wilderness.

It was before sundown and Jaskier was about to turn back when he saw Geralt starting to make camp a little further off. Which was strange because he usually probably would have traveled on for a bit longer.

He knew Geralt must have been hearing him for miles and he absently wondered if that was why he had stopped early. To let him catch up while still acting like he wasn't.

Geralt didn't say anything as he approached camp, didn't even look up. Which, yet another indicator he had known for a while that it was Jaskier. So he didn't comment back, walked until he was a few feet from Geralt and set down his things before setting down himself. 

He stared at Geralt, waiting to be acknowledged. And long minutes passed.

Finally, Jaskier sighed. "Look, I came to apologize." 

At this, Geralt shot him a brief look. "Saying you came to apologize isn't the same as doing it. But why apologize?" 

"I'm sorry, Geralt, I didn't mean to be an ass. And thank you, by the way. I probably wouldn't have been able to catch up with you, walking all the way out here with how beat up I probably would have been. And I'm assuming it was you who paid for the room and got me there safely because I'm not missing enough coin for it to have been me, so thank you for that as well. It was quite kind of you, especially after how shitty I had been." 

Now, Geralt looked at him again, and Jaskier thought that that had been sufficient enough to warrant a response, but he didn't get one as Geralt's eyes slid away from him. 

"Okay," Jaskier started, really getting upset now. "But to be fair, you are kind of also an ass to me all the time. And, why, Geralt? Since the moment we met, you've been dismissive and rude to me. But then you'll have these other moments where, for a second, I think we're actually friends! Like when we met up again back at that tavern a few months ago. You were in such a good mood and you actually admitted you don't hate my very being. So I just don't get it, Geralt, what is it? Is there something I do that pisses you off? Is there something I do that makes you not hate me for five minutes? But how would I know, Geralt, when you never speak to me about any of this?" 

Geralt didn't say anything, but Jaskier saw his fists tighten, clearly getting a little angry. But it was fine, it wasn't like Jaskier was scared or anything. That didn't mean that Geralt was going to hit him. 

"Do you hate me, Geralt?" 

_ Finally _ , Jaskier got a fucking response. 

"No." 

Jaskier waited, letting the silence stretch so that Geralt had ample room to continue. 

Unfortunately, his anger was fading. Which was bad because all it left was an empty sadness. The same that had driven him into the alley last night with those men. The same that had made him keep running his mouth at them. 

"Do you want me gone, Geralt?" He asked, quietly. 

There was a pause, a hesitation before Geralt opened his mouth, and suddenly, Jaskier didn't want to hear the answer. 

"Don't answer that," he snapped out. Standing, he picked up his things, planning on walking back to the town despite dusk covering the forest. "If you want me gone, I'll go. But you don't have to say it. You don't have to hurt me to get me to leave. I'll just go." 

"Jaskier—“

He started walking. 

"Jaskier, sit down." 

With a deep breath, Jaskier stopped walking but he did not sit down and he did not turn around. He couldn't let Geralt see that he was starting to cry. Then he would want him gone for sure. 

"I didn't hesitate in answering you because I want you gone. It's just that it's almost winter. I'm going to be making my way back to Kaer Morhen." 

"Right, of course," was all Jaskier was able to say, not trusting his voice beyond those few syllables. 

"I'm not used to having someone travel with me." 

Jaskier just gave a tight nod. 

"Jaskier, sit down."

With a shake of his head and a deep breath, Jaskier said, "No, it's fine. I can just head back to town and..." And, he didn't know what. Rejected from Geralt once again where was he supposed to go. 

"Don't be stupid, Jaskier, it's already getting dark. Just sit down. If you really want to go back, you can do so in the morning." 

Unfortunately, Jaskier knew that Geralt was right so after much deliberation—and minutes spent trying to get his emotions under control enough so that Geralt wouldn't notice when he turned around—Jaskier relented. 

By the time he had returned, Geralt had made a fire. Jaskier set his things down quietly, aware that Geralt was looking at him expectantly. 

He sat down. "When are you planning on leaving for Kaer Morhen?" 

Geralt shrugged, squinting up at the sky. "A few weeks, probably. I'll take a few more contracts on my way, if I can. Maybe you'll find enough material to keep you composing all winter." 

And, oh, it was heartbreaking, because Jaskier knew that Geralt was making an effort to try and bring things around to normal, if only because he didn't like dealing with emotions. But what was he supposed to say, supposed to do? 

He couldn't. He just...couldn't. So without another word, Jaskier made up his bed and fell asleep. 

__________

Jaskier woke up in the morning to the sounds of Geralt getting his things together and readying to continue on to wherever he was planning on going—Jaskier hadn't asked. But in the meantime, he pretended to be asleep and tried to figure out what he was going to do. It wasn't like he could keep traveling with Geralt for the time being, as he had made it clear last night that he was going to be going a separate way soon. So it was probably best for Jaskier to head back into town. He had done what he had set out yesterday to do—apologize—and it was time for him to admit that maybe this thing with Geralt was just never going to go anywhere. Maybe it was going to be the same every time. 

But that didn't mean there would ever be a time when Jaskier could tear himself away from him. 

"I know you're awake." 

Inwardly, Jaskier cursed. Damn those Witcher senses. 

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. Silently and not acknowledging Geralt, Jaskier packed up his things. He could tell Geralt was ready to leave and was waiting to see what Jaskier would do so when he had all of his things together, he walked over to Geralt. To say goodbye. 

Clearing his throat, Jaskier looked down at his shoes a moment. "I'm going to head back to town."

"Jaskier, you—“

He held up a hand. "Geralt, I do enjoy traveling with you. And your whole thing with being uncommunicative is fine, really, even if I tease you about it sometimes. And I don't care, really, about your relationship with your own emotions. But, Geralt." 

He looked up and Geralt could see nothing but the sadness in the eyes of the man across from him. 

Jaskier's voice was almost at a whisper. "You have to have figured out by now that I'm in love with you." Gently, he touched Geralt's hand, swallowing thickly. "I don't think it's ever going to change, Geralt. I'm sorry. I can't help it. I know you don't feel the same, so I'm going back into town now. Please don't say anything, please don't follow me, and please. If you ever wander your way into a town and hear my songs drifting from some tavern....Don't hurt me." 

He didn't wait for Geralt to say anything—he didn't  _ want _ Geralt to say anything—but rather slipped around him and headed back towards town, his heart breaking in his hands. 

__________

Eskel knocked Geralt's sword out of his hands. "What is wrong with you, Geralt?" 

Sighing, Geralt picked up the weapon and started to walk away. "I'm just off today, is all." 

"Yeah, well, you've been off since you showed up two weeks ago." Eskel followed him, catching up as they stopped their sparring. "Actually, to be honest, you were a little off last winter, too. So what's going on?" 

Geralt paused, sword in his hand and stared at it for a moment. What was going on was that every time he closed his eyes he heard the thin notes of a lute and the full voice that always accompanied him, had been following him around for months and months that was so suddenly gone. 

He opened his eyes. "It's nothing, Eskel." 

"Bullshit." 

Geralt sighed. "It's this fucking bard." 

" _ Toss a coin to your Witcher, _ ” Lambert sang very badly and Geralt continued to ignore the younger Witcher's presence. 

"That bard?" Eskel asked.

Geralt nodded. "That bard," and took off walking, wanting to get away from it all and try and clear his head. 

Eskel, naturally, followed. 

"Well, are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Geralt stopped, trying not to sigh again. "He told me that he loves me." 

For a moment, Eskel didn't say anything, just stood with his mouth slightly open. "Okay," He clapped Geralt on the shoulder. "Let's go sit down. In fact, maybe we should go get Vesemir." 

"No," Geralt said, a little harsh. "It's not something that needs to be public knowledge." 

"Fair enough," Eskel relented and they went to go find a place to sit down, away from the attention of others. 

"So," Eskel said. "When did he tell you?"

"A few weeks before I came to Kaer Morhen. It was the last time I saw him." 

"Well, what are you going to do?"

Geralt glared. "What do you mean, what am I going to do? There's nothing to be done." 

Eskel was silent a moment, like he was waiting for Geralt to fill in some gaps. But when Geralt didn't say anything he spoke slowly, "He's human. So things are a little different. You can't just brush him off. Do you want to never see him again?" 

"No," Geralt said. "But he's an adult. He can live with—“

Touching a hand to his eyebrows, Eskel just shook his head. "No, Geralt. He's in love with you. And if he confessed it to you, that means he's so in love with you it's breaking his heart and that he either wants his love to be requited or for you to stop torturing him by being around him without loving him back, Geralt. It's like you've never met a pining human before." 

Geralt raised an eyebrow. "Because you have?" 

"Oh, not for me, you idiot! But I've paid attention as I've traveled. You have to make your decision about what you're going to do when you see him next. Because you probably will see him again. And you have to be ready."

"What if he doesn't love me anymore by the time I see him? That would fix all of our problems, then. How long until that happens?"

For a moment, Eskel closed his eyes. "Geralt, humans don't really fall out of love unless the person they're in love with does something that breaks their heart. Maybe if the next time you see him is decades from now and he's old and married, he might still love you but look back on your time together with fondness and nostalgia and you won't be breaking his heart. But that's probably not going to be the case. So you need to know what you're going to do in case you see him in the first fucking town you arrive at after you leave Kaer Morhen." Eskel got up from where he was sitting and started to walk off. "Lucky you, you have the whole winter to think about it." 

Geralt sighed. "Fuck." 

__________

He had really been hoping that Eskel was wrong. In fact, if how little Geralt had thought about it was anything to go off of, he was sure that Eskel would be proven wrong. 

Okay, if Geralt was being honest with himself—which he wasn't—he probably would have acknowledged that in actuality, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it all winter. He had tried—desperately. It hadn't stopped him. When he wasn't thinking about it purposefully and explicitly, it was always in the back of his mind. Which is why he was somehow not surprised when he had just finished up a contract in a town and was told that he should stay the night in town because there was a lovely bard in town that he should stay and hear. A bard who, sometimes, sang grand songs about Witchers. 

Geralt knew he could have gotten out of town right then. He could have just left and ignored Jaskier's singing which he would have heard for miles and miles as he set out into the wilderness to make camp. But as much as he thought he could just walk away, he knew that he really couldn't. Despite the conclusion he had come to over the winter that he didn't want to admit.

That second time he had met up with Jaskier made so clear to Geralt what his feelings were for the bard. He hadn't been intending to stop in that town at all, just passing through, but he had heard the tones of Jaskier's voice drifting to him from the tavern and he had been overcome with how much he had missed Jaskier. In the months between the bard's first disappearance and reappearance, Geralt had made the mistake of assuming that he was relieved he had finally gotten rid of the annoying other man. But that hadn't been the case at all. No. He had missed Jaskier. 

And he missed Jaskier now. 

Geralt was two buildings from the tavern and could hear so clearly now Jaskier as he went through his set. But he stopped. He wanted so badly to go in, but he could follow through as Eskel had told him he needed to? Was Eskel right? 

If Geralt couldn't give the bard back the love that he wanted, was Geralt only torturing him by being around him at all? 

And, of course, the biggest problem of all: Geralt had no idea what love really felt like, but if he had to guess he had ever had romantic feelings for someone, it would be Jaskier. If anyone through all of his years would be able to teach Geralt what a soft, kind, passionate love was, it had been Jaskier. 

Geralt just wasn't worthy of him. Jaskier deserved far better. 

He was just about to leave when Jaskier started his next song. Instead, Geralt made his way quickly inside the building, pushing through the crowd until he found a spot in the corner because Jaskier had been talking before he started this next song and it only took a few words to draw Geralt in: 

"This is a brand new song. I composed it just this winter." 

Finding himself a corner, Geralt leaned a shoulder against either wall, standing in the back of the crowd. It was so packed that he was certain Jaskier didn't know he was there. 

And then Jaskier started playing a song that Geralt had never heard before. He hadn't even heard its beginnings, its stumbled chords around the fireplace. 

_ "Every night, you have broken my heart _

_ You have taken my songs from me _

_ Don't you see, my love, I would give _

_ Every single thing _

_ If you would just, let me be your friend  _

_ Every night until I meet my end  _

_ But you have taken my songs from me."  _

For once in his life, Geralt didn't want to be in the corner any longer. Because even though he was above average height, Jaskier was sitting down and Geralt couldn't see him. And, right now, he needed to see him. He needed to watch the bard's face and know if Geralt was the one he was singing of. 

_ "Every winter, will you always leave me?  _

_ I don't know if I can keep on _

_ You can push me away each time  _

_ It's alright, my love _

_ I will follow despite the barb'ed line _

_ You have strung through this skin of mine _

_ When you took all my songs from me"  _

Geralt had been pushing his way through the crowd, but now he stopped. He knew he wanted to see Jaskier's face as he sang the song, but now he was unsure if he wanted to risk Jaskier seeing him. 

Luckily, it was a far shorter song than most of Jaskier's and it only had the two verses. Geralt had a fleeting wonder if it was truly finished, then, knowing Jaskier. 

When he stopped playing, most of the crowd seemed happy, as it wasn't his usual upbeat type of song. All around Geralt, they began urging Jaskier for his hit: Toss a Coin. 

"And look!" A woman shouted. "We've got a Witcher here for it!" 

Geralt looked with distaste at the woman next to him who had pointed him out and she disappeared in the crowd. Which was also parting its way to clear a line of vision between him and Jaskier. 

All teeth, Jaskier gave him a big smile. "I'm very sorry, you kind folks, but this particular Witcher, I happen to know doesn't like when I play that song too much and I did already play it once this night." 

"Oh, he just came in!" The crowd informed Jaskier. 

Jaskier laughed loudly. "Well, instead, perhaps he would prefer me to sing of a daring encounter of his with a Kikimore!" 

The crowd mumbled a bit, still jostling for their favorite. 

Instead, Jaskier stood and—with a glance at Geralt—headed for the door. "Actually, you've been a wonderful crowd tonight, but I'm feeling a bit of a parched throat and, unfortunately, will be taking my leave of you." 

Jaskier pushed open the door to the disappointed sounds of his crowd. 

Geralt found himself unable to immediately follow, as trapped as he was inside the crowded building. Most moved out of his way immediately but, unfortunately, most were too drunk to bother taking note of who was trying to push past them, instead blindly using their shoulders and elbows to push back. But Geralt pushed his way through and out the door, wondering if he had lost Jaskier. 

He didn't know where he should start to wander to try and find the bard, so he listened. And, sure enough, a minute later he heard the small sounds of a lute being played somewhere near. 

As Geralt made his way to the sound, he realized it was the same tune as the song he had just played. 

He found Jaskier two buildings away, around the backside, leaning against the wall. He was playing his lute and smiling softly, clearly waiting for Geralt to round the corner. 

"You always know how to find me," Jaskier said. 

"You always know how to make it obvious." 

Again, Jaskier laughed and Geralt remembered how much he had missed it over the winter. 

"Well," Jaskier didn't pause in his playing. "Did you like the song?" 

Geralt just nodded, not trusting his words enough at that moment. 

Jaskier looked up at him as if he were shy, which Geralt had never known him to be. "Do you want to hear the last verse?" 

"I knew it sounded too short. Sure." Geralt leaned against the wall next to Jaskier as he sang. 

He didn't start the song from the beginning, as Geralt had been expecting. Instead, he sang only the final verse, his eyes never leaving Geralt's as he did. 

_ "I will love you all of my days,  _

_ I'll never give too much of me _

_ I will take all the heartbreak _

_ It's not a burden to me _

_ And I'll compose a thousands songs to sing _

_ Every word an act of worshiping  _

_ I'm happy you took my songs from me"  _

Geralt didn't know what to say when Jaskier stopped playing. He didn't know if the lyrics made him feel happy or sad or just confused. Was he supposed to be happy about the song? Was it about how he had broken Jaskier’s heart? 

"Do you like it?" Jaskier asked, his voice barely a whisper. So small Geralt wouldn't have heard it if he had been only human. 

He met Jaskier's eyes. "Yes." 

"Did you think any about what I had said?" 

In his head, Geralt cursed Eskel for being right. Why couldn't Jaskier leave it alone and just know that Geralt wasn't good with this kind of thing?"

"I know you're not good with this kind of thing," Jaskier continued. "I just want to check-in and make sure I'm not crossing any lines."

Sighing, Geralt leaned more of his weight against the wall. "Jaskier, I just don't know how to figure out what I feel. How do humans do it so easily? How do you know, Jaskier?"

Jaskier gave him a small, tentative smile, and Geralt wondered if it was just out of pity. "Did you feel immediate disgust when I told you?"

"No." 

Jaskier nodded. "Alright, then. We can work with that. Look, Geralt, emotions can be complicated, even for humans. But you have to really think about it. You know, look inside of yourself and think." 

"How do you know when you've found it?"

"That's easy part, my darling Witcher."

"But what am I looking for?" 

Jaskier straightened and moved to stand in front of Geralt, looking him directly in the eyes. "Generally, love is about wanting to be with someone. And wanting to be with them when things are hard. When you are scared or frightened, who do you want to be with? When you think that you're dying, who do you want by your side? In the middle of the night, when your arms ache to hold someone, who do you wish was next to you? Can you see a life with that person? Do you miss them when they're far?" 

Geralt searched Jaskier's eyes. "Is that how you feel about me?" 

"Yes, Geralt. Love is about finding someone that is more important than your life. You would give them your life. You would give them your life as in giving every single second of your life to them, devoting yourself to them. And you would give your life  _ for _ them, if it ever came to that. When you love someone, you would trade your life for theirs. You want nothing more than their happiness. That's why they say that if you love someone, you should let them go. Because their happiness should be your top priority and if someone or something else can make them happier than you can, you let them have that no matter how much it hurts you."

And, oh, Geralt understood now. Because there were countless, countless things in this world, countless other people that would make Jaskier so much happier than Geralt could ever make him. 

"Jaskier," he started, but he didn't know where to go. 

Apparently, the bard had taken that as an admission because he leaned in, his eyes starting to close. Before he got all the way, Geralt stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

He couldn't let Jaskier do this. He deserved so much more. 

Jaskier's eyes flew open, confused. 

"I'm sorry, Jaskier." 

Blinking quickly, Jaskier straightened up. "No need to be sorry, Geralt. It's me who should be sorry for that."

"No, Jaskier. I—“

"I'll just go now," Jaskier said. "If that's what you want."

"It's not," Geralt admitted. 

Suddenly, anger sparked in Jaskier. "Well then, what the hell, Geralt? Do you want me or not? I have to know!" 

Geralt shook his head, pushing himself off the wall. He should be the one to go. "It was like you said, Jaskier. There's so much else that can make you happier. And you deserve that. You deserve everything and I can't give it to you."

He started to walk away, turning his back to Jaskier. 

"Geralt! That wasn't the point of—Oh, for fuck's sake! Geralt, get back here!" 

But no matter what Jaskier said, Geralt didn't stop, didn't turn around. So Jaskier crossed his arms across his chest, huffing. What was he going to do with this Witcher of his? 

__________

He had heard rumors of a Witcher being in town. Which was strange because it was the time of year that Geralt should be headed to Kaer Morhen. Jaskier hadn't been expecting to see him, but he had heard from countless people that there was a Witcher in town. 

Jaskier walked into the building, having been told the Witcher was in there. Quickly, he scanned the four corners, but no Geralt. He was about to give up when he saw someone watching him. 

A little unnerved by the stare, Jaskier almost started to curse at the man, but by the pendant hanging around his neck, he was no man. And Jaskier's heart fell. Because he wasn't Geralt. 

Well, fuck it, he walked over anyway. 

"Who are you?" He asked. 

"Eskel." He raised his cup in greeting. "You're the bard." 

"Bard," Jaskier mumbled, sitting down. "I am a bard, but to what do I owe the moniker  _ the  _ bard?" 

The Witcher across from him smiled. "Well, you're the bard Geralt can't stop thinking about, right?" 

Heart skipping a beat, Jaskier sucked in a breath. It was the first news he had heard of Geralt since he had walked away from Jaskier months ago. Suddenly, his throat felt very tight. 

"Don't know what you mean. I'm sure Geralt doesn't think of me at all." 

"Let's see, you met over two years ago? Geralt has spent the last two winters—the last one in particular—doing nothing  _ but _ thinking of you."

"Have you seen him recently?"

Eskel shook his head. "Not since we left Kaer Morhen last winter. But you really freaked him out, telling him that you love him. He couldn't stay focused on anything he was doing; too busy wondering what to say to you. Have you seen him since? Did he find you?" 

At the thought of Geralt looking to find him, Jaskier's fingers tightened. "Yeah, I saw him once." 

Raising an eyebrow, Eskel looked expectant. "Well, what happened?" 

What was Jaskier even supposed to say to that? The memory made his heart so much, an ache deep in his stomach. Thinking about it only made it hurt worse. But he hadn't been able to share it with anyone who really cared enough to listen. If Geralt had felt comfortable enough to share this with Eskel last winter that Jaskier had confessed his love for Geralt, then maybe Jaskier could confide in him as well. 

"I'm not even sure," Jaskier admitted. "He ended up walking away from me. But from what he said...."

Sighing, Eskel motioned for him to continue. 

"Right, well, he told me he didn't know how to even figure out what he felt because, as you probably know, he is  _ incredibly  _ emotionally repressed. You know, if he would just only realize that I have enough emotional competency for the both of us, that would be wonderful. Like, as long as he can give me that little bit of confirmation, I can do ninety percent of the emotional work of this relationship, I mean," Jaskier pushed his hair out of his face. "I know what I'm getting into; I'm not asking him to change." 

"Can you get back to the story?" 

Jaskier waved his hand. "You're so impatient. We'll get there when we get there." He was surprised: Eskel laughed a little. "Anyway." 

Eskel sat back in his chair, clearly buckling in for the story. 

"So I was telling Geralt about love and everything and the ways that it feels and how much you miss someone and how much you want to always be with them and how you would lay down your life for them. And how when you love someone, sometimes you let them walk away because you recognize that their happiness is so important to you that you would rather them be even that much happier without you if they would be. Now, I was saying this to intend it as, 'Geralt, if you want me gone, I'm gone, my dear.' Naturally, he took it personally and I think he got a little self-deprecating about the whole thing and decided that what he heard was that he needs to let me go and live my normal human life without him." 

As Jaskier spoke, Eskel just nodded knowingly. "That sounds very much like Geralt. You know he's always going to default to being self-sacrificing." 

"Ugh." Jaskier dropped his head into his arms on the tabletop. He grumbled, not looking up because he knew Eskel would still be able to hear him. "And now the problem is that he is always going to avoid me because of that. Like, if," He raised his head. "If I'm singing somewhere, he will always hear me before I even see him. He'll keep avoiding me. And there's nothing I can do about it. I'm literally never going to see him again in order to...apologize. Make things right." 

"I have a solution." 

Sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms, Jaskier gave Eskel a skeptic look. "If it involves sneaking up on a Witcher, I think you've greatly overestimated my abilities." 

"I'm on my way to Kaer Morhen. Come with me. Geralt'll be there and you two will have the entire winter to work things out." 

"I swear, if we need the whole winter, I will hit him upside the head." Pausing, Jaskier thought it over, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Do you think that would work? Because all I envision is him getting upset." 

Eskel shrugged. "Who cares? You'll be my guest for the winter, not his. He can get as upset as he wants. Like I said, you two have the whole winter to work things out. What do you say?" 

And that was three weeks ago. 

Standing just before the entrance to Kaer Morhen, Jaskier wondered if he had made the right choice. But, it was too late to turn back now so he squared his shoulders and followed Eskel. 

They hadn't been in long when another Witcher came out, saying "Eskel!" Coming up to them, the other man stopped short, looking at Jaskier. "Who's this?" 

Eskel laughed a little. "This is Jaskier. Geralt's bard. Geralt keeps avoiding him, so I made that a little more difficult for him." 

The other Witcher looked up Jaskier up and down, critically. "Good," he said. "He got here a week ago and he's practically moping and I sense it has something to do with you. He's super sensitive, gets angry at every little thing. Very easily annoyed, that one."

"That's strange. I never thought of him as easily annoyed. He did travel with me, after all." 

Eskel glanced sideways at him. "True. You can't be easily annoyed to do that." 

Jaskier laughed. "Oh, are you regretting your decision already?" 

"Let's just go find Geralt." 

Jaskier was led through Kaer Morhen until they found Geralt. Then, Eskel stood in the doorway, gesturing for Jaskier to go into the room. And once Jaskier walked in, Eskel left them. 

Geralt was sitting with his back to the doorway, so he didn't see Jaskier come in. He no doubt heard him, but Jaskier didn't know what was going on. Did he not realize it was Jaskier? Did he really not want to see him that much? 

"You really thought you could get rid of me that easily, Witcher?" 

Geralt didn't turn around and Jaskier found himself really starting to panic. Even a little snark couldn't make things normal and if that was so, they might really be in trouble.

Jaskier moved around the table Geralt was sitting at to come and sit across from him. It was then that he saw Geralt was just staring off into space, looking more incredibly sad than Jaskier had ever seen him. 

Wanting to comfort him, Jaskier tried to reach out a hand, but it was only then that Geralt moved, leaning away from him. 

"Jaskier, what are you doing here? I'm sorry, I'm trying to stay away from you—“

"Well, there's your answer," Jaskier bit. "You keep trying to stay away from me, keep trying to avoid me. And I'm fucking fed up with it. I'm not going to let you keep wandering around this entire continent thinking that you are unlovable and a danger to yourself and others. Geralt, I choose you. I'm not scared. I know that I love you. That's all that matters. What are  _ you _ afraid of?" 

Geralt still wouldn't look at him, like it was too painful. "Jaskier, I just want to keep you safe. I don't want to hurt you." 

"Then stop walking away; that's what hurts the most." 

Geralt shook his head. "No. Jaskier, I'm not good for you. You shouldn't be around me. I—“

"Will you shut the fuck up, Geralt? From the moment I met you, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I haven't been able to compose a single song, Geralt, that isn't about you. You have utterly consumed my thoughts. And do you think I'm some sort of lovesick child who is blinded by my feelings, is that it? Geralt, I know you. I know what I'm getting into. I'm not an idiot. I know you and all of what comes with you. And I  _ still choose you. _ ”

He paused, waiting for Geralt to say something. 

Jaskier reached for him again and Geralt didn't pull away this time. He took him by the hand and Geralt squeezed back, like holding tight to a lifeline he desperately never knew he needed. 

Keeping his hold on his hand, Jaskier moved around the table to come and sit next to Geralt. 

"All you have to do," he whispered. "Is choose me back." 

"I don't want to hurt you, Jaskier. I'm so scared of hurting you. There are so many other things that will make you happier. I am not the best thing for you."

Jaskier shook his head. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Geralt's. "You let me worry about that. I know what I want, Geralt. I know what will make me happy. And it's you. We're probably going to hurt each other, it's a side-effect of love. But I'd rather be hurt by how much we love each other than by you walking away from me. All you have to do, Geralt, is love me back. It's that simple." 

"Is it really?" 

Pulling back to look Geralt in the eyes, he held his gaze for a moment. " _ Yes _ .”

With a hand at the back of his neck, Geralt pulled Jaskier into a kiss, full of need. Jaskier moved his hand that wasn't still crushed in Geralt's to cup his cheek, brushing strands of hair away from his face. 

The kiss finally broke and Jaskier titled forward to chase it, but Geralt gently held him back until Jaskier opened his eyes. 

"I choose you, Jaskier. It terrifies me, you terrify me, but I love you, Jaskier. If there is anyone I have ever loved, it is you. I care about you more than I want to think about. Whenever you aren't next to me, I'm downright distracted with how much I miss you." 

Jaskier kissed him again. "I'll never leave you, then."

**Author's Note:**

> first, I've only watched the netflix series. everything else i know is from reading ff. anyway, i love eskel
> 
> ___  
> Thank you so much for reading!! Please feel free to leave a comment and/ or message me on [ tumblr ](https://www.thewhitewolfsdandelion.tumblr.com)
> 
> I am also going to soon open up ficlet requests on [ tumblr ](https://www.thewhitewolfsdandelion.tumblr.com)


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